


Escape and a Red Trail

by FurudeKami



Series: TF2 Collection [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, M/M, Mild Blood, Out of Character Spy (Team Fortress 2), RED Spy OC (Team Fortress 2), Yandere, Yandere RED Spy OC (Team Fortress 2), failed escape attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 11:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FurudeKami/pseuds/FurudeKami
Summary: I haven't written anything yandere in so long, I'm so rusty...Regardless though, I felt the need to go back to it since I haven't given my TF2 OCs any love anywhere in a long time, and I intend to do so more often on more sites than just Tumblr.





	Escape and a Red Trail

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything yandere in so long, I'm so rusty...  
Regardless though, I felt the need to go back to it since I haven't given my TF2 OCs any love anywhere in a long time, and I intend to do so more often on more sites than just Tumblr.

The streets were quiet, save for the crickets, struggling pants from a mouth stained in blood, unsteady slaps of bare feet on concrete, and the hum of the line of older streetlights that filled the air. Spy held a hand firm over his mouth, attempting to keep the blood that filled it from spilling out onto the concrete below. He knew he couldn’t leave a trail, else he’d be found in an instant. It had already happened many times before.

He continued to run, eyes darting all around him in an attempt to find a place to hide. He knew he’d be found much easier if he were to stay in the light in plain sight like this. He needed to hide, to find someone to help him… but who? In his frenzied state, he had no clue where he even was, or if anyone was even around. Would anyone even help him if he were to run into them?

The path leading to the alleyway nearby was significantly darker, a visible separation of the light from complete darkness from the lack of light from the few burnt out streetlights in that area. The houses at the end of the line did no favors in helping illuminate the area. The exhaustion Spy felt had made his legs wobble, but he paid no mind to it, nor the horrible ache of his feet from all the gravel and concrete among other things he’d been running across as quickly as he could.

He instinctively had a distressed look on his face as he thought about his escape. Chances of escape from his captor were literally zero, yet here he was, thanks to past experience of escaping with none of his gadgets and tips and tricks, and a door that had been left fully open. And if he were to go farther, luck and even fate shining down on him. How long had he been hidden away from the outside? How long has it been since he could run, walk, or even stand freely without feeling eyes all around him, and wondering what had been watching _literally_ from within the shadows? He didn't even remember right now.

He sighed and slumped against one of the streetlights, a shiver wracking through his body from the chill of the autumn night air. The thin T-shirt and sweatpants he wore didn’t help too much, but he was happy with it. It was more than enough for now. This freedom as is was more than enough for now.

But that was brought to a halt when a noise cut through the quiet of the alleyway.

_ He _ was already here.

Spy was already familiarized with the feeling of fear at this point, but now, it had hit his being so hard that he had to try with all of his might to not throw up. With a struggle, he lifted himself back up, feeling much heavier than he had before. He winced and lifted a foot to check it, and noticed just how many cuts had riddled his leg from the ankle down, as well as the cuts all across the bottom of his foot, blood flowing in various streams from all of the wounds. He’d focused so intently on the blood in his mouth and controlling the volume of his panting that he hadn’t even noticed just how much he had been bleeding in other places. He’d left a clear trail, leading his captor right to him, and walked right into his own grave he’d dug himself.

The dread had already taken over, and the panting and trembling began once again before he noticed. He didn’t know where to go, what to do, or even where he was. But another sound cut through the panic that he knew all too well. The sound of heavy steps, and frantic pants of distress that mirrored his own perfectly. The sniffles and hiccups that came before and after distressed sobs that signaled pain, heartbreak, and indirect torture that made him wish it’d been inflicted on him instead, to just get it over with and kill him already. The sounds of the man who told Spy every single day how much he was loved and treasured, and at the same time, had taken Spy away from everything in his life he’d ever known before. Who turned Spy to the trembling and bloodied state he was in now, broken down nearly beyond return. Who made Spy feel so small and weak, and unable to ever regain his ability to mask his true feelings and thoughts in his favor ever again.

Spy’s hand shook harder as he tried to clamp down tighter, trying to keep grounded as he heard the steps approach. If Spy made a run for it again, would he be chased? If he ran and was chased and caught, would he be hurt and tortured somehow?

Then,  _ he _ spoke, and the tears filling Spy’s eyes began to pour before he could stop them. Spy hated that voice so much, b ut that voice was drawing him back in, and it was inviting. Though, that may be because… it was exactly like his own.

“Spy, I know you’re here. I can see and sense you.” 

The voice was only a few feet away, and the incoming sob of terror that rose up into Spy’s throat choked him as he doubled over. The noises of fear he could barely contain by now had been eating away at his resolve, and his tears had completely blurred his vision.

“I’m going to give  _ you _ the power to make the choices, okay dear?”  _ His _ voice was strained, small and shaky as he tried his best to keep himself calm. Spy could picture that face, the wide and almost animalistic frenzy in those tear-filled eyes, the purple of those irises that had a glow no matter how much light had been on them while in that state. The shadows that surrounded that form, and the clawed demonic hands that rose from the ground around him. “I want you to choose. Either you come to me, or I come to you. I beg of you… just come to me. It’ll make this much easier on the both of us.”

Spy swallowed down another sob. He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want this. Any of this. He knew all sorts of things that could happen if  _ he _ came over instead. He’d felt the indescribable agony of his very mind being torn apart and manipulated as he watched those he held close be brought to a slow and agonizingly painful end before his very eyes, unable to even move to do more than writhe and scream his voice hoarse. Spy had seen the monster  _ he _ becomes. He’d seen that part of  _ him _ too many times, the one that he fears and knows at an intimate level.

But he knew the part that wasn’t like this as well. The one with the bright and sweet smile, those shining blue eyes that nearly glittered just being at Spy’s side. The one that was forgiving, caring, and nurturing, and gave Spy hugs and peppered him in sweet kisses as he went on and on about how much he loved Spy. Spy knew this one too.

But Spy didn’t want both of these things combating each other like this, and tearing apart everyone in the fray, not just Spy himself. He didn’t want to be with a man who hurt him like this, and could break down his walls so much that there was nothing left to ever rebuild. But he knew that in the end, he didn’t have a choice to leave.

“Spy.” The voice was short and quick. “Please. Don’t make me come to you instead.”

He started moving before he even registered what was going on. He leaned against the brick wall beside him, his grip on his mouth still firm as his fingers curled and clawed against the edge. He took deep breaths, resisting running away as he proceeded forward. He’d given up. The chance to escape was gone from the start. It was never even there in the first place. 

He stilled, refusing to look his captor in the eyes as his legs trembled, the regret and guilt written all over his face and body language. His heart pounded in his chest and rang in his ears, and his vision was still too blurred from his tears to see anything around him clearly.

He’d been so lost in his dread that he didn’t notice a hand reach out to him, until the gentle brush on his shoulder snapped him back into reality. With a gasp and a stumble, his balance was lost, and he was grabbed and pulled into the body in front of him before he could fall backwards. On instinct, his hand snapped up to his mouth again, a response from becoming used to running like that for too long to remember. No longer could he hold it back, and he cried. Soft sobs shook his whole body, his eyes squeezing shut in pain and acceptance of what has come. He blamed himself for throwing away his chance. His one and only chance. There was no going back now, no chance to call out for help in hopes someone would come to his rescue. 

So much dread as he thought about what he could’ve done in that moment. So much beating himself up inside as he thought about how easy it could have been to just scream someone’s name. Victor… Medic…  _ Cody _ … So many of his teammates and friends have more than enough power to stop this and save him, and all he had to do was call their names…

_ His _ touches were feather light as _he_ moved across Spy’s face, planting gentle kisses across his bare skin as  _ he _ held on needily.

“Spy, dear,  _ why _ did you do this…?”  _ He _ said weakly,  _ his _ grip tightening around Spy’s form enough for him to let out a whine from the pain. _His_ fingers dug into Spy’s back, _his_ despair and growing anger nearly unrestrained. Spy could sense relief growing alongside that anger enough to feel it through his own body in a stifling, pulsing wave of heat. But Spy had run away, had betrayed _him_ once again… He’d added a whole gas can to the inferno that was already raging from the unforgivable betrayal that had caused all of this in the first place.

When he’d cheated. When he’d gone back to the woman he swore to leave after finding out about her own betrayal of him that destroyed his heart. Through all of that pain,  _ he _ was always there, always by Spy’s side to support him and help him see that things weren’t so bad, and that he was finally free. But Spy had done  _ him _ even lower by returning to her, even when they had been happily discussing  _ marriage _ of all things, and he had accepted it. He accepted that he was weak. That he had caused this.

He was the one who triggered the Bad End flag.

“ _ Fucking answer me, god fucking dammit! _ ”  _ He _ quietly hissed, the sound in his ear making Spy flinch as the hand around his mouth was suddenly grabbed and yanked away from its spot. A few drops of blood dripped down from Spy’s chin, falling onto  _ his _ red turtleneck that left barely a dark enough spot to be visible on the garment.

The fear forced Spy’s reply out of him.

“I-I’m sorry… So, _s-so_ _sorry…_” He barely managed to get his words out between sobs as he looked at _him_, and went to move his arm, but failed since the grip on his wrist didn’t falter in the slightest.

He saw the look on that face that had features so precisely mirroring his own under the bangs that framed _his_ face. The want to scream out, to yell and let loose a flurry of bites of pure venom that would hit Spy at his very core, without even being aimed at Spy himself. There was one last flare of light from that piercing purple, before it faded as if it wasn’t even there in the first place.  _ He _ gave Spy the power to choose, and Spy had apparently gone in all the right directions this time.

“I-I’m s-so so s-sorry, please forgive me…” Spy’s body shook even harder as he cried out, his voice strained as the lump in his throat choked him. “Please forgive me…  _ P-please, please please please f-forgive me, Francis… _ ”

He felt utterly pathetic. This begging was disgusting and disgraceful to him. He felt so worthless, nothing but a husk of his former self as this all sank in.

Francis watched him intensely. The way Spy fell apart in front of him.  _ Because _ of him. Fell apart, and broke down. And in that moment, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“ _ Please, Fran- _ ”

Spy was cut off as the softness of lips met his, jolting from the sudden feeling as Francis kissed him. It felt different than what it usually did. There was no sting and harshness from a horrible situation that made everything Francis did painful to the touch, despite the softness he’d always kept to. There _was_ something different about this. The rhythm was slow and gentle as Francis moved his lips against Spy’s, and when Spy had calmed, he felt a hand move to push against the back of his head, fingers running through the black and silver of his matted hair as it pressed a bit harder. Francis wanted something, but Spy wasn’t sure of what it was this time. 

Maybe he wanted to feel some form of sentiment from Spy, as he was comforted and protected. To feel like Spy was there with him, and not far far away from their home, running through a park that they’d gone to together so many times, but was forgotten in a fear-filled frenzy as he ran as much as he could without noticing just how much he had injured himself in the process. To believe that Spy felt as intensely as Francis did for him. That he returned the amount of how much Francis loved him, cherished him, treasured him more than life itself. Francis had never wanted to hear Spy beg and plead for forgiveness like he had been doing, never wanted Spy to be unhappy. He never even wanted to hurt, torture, and kill all the people he had as Spy watched him under the influence of Francis’s powers of possession. He just wanted it to be the both of them, the world around them unimportant as he held Spy in his arms.

He didn’t want to be the cause of the Bad End flag in the first place.

Spy gasped as Francis deepened the kiss, his movements growing more needy and desperate. He pulled himself closer, as if to make sure that this was real, and not another dream to be woken up from in a state of longing and dread. Spy whimpered as Francis’s grip tightened a bit more. Yes, this was _definitely_ different from the other times. Something completely different, and revealing of things that were much more, much deeper than what was first assumed. Something that made Spy realize that despite all of the power he held, the status he holds as a revered deity of shadows and darkness, Francis was still human. Spy knew then that he was being held by Francis with nothing but pure fear. A horrible fear of all that’s happened between them, and what all he’d done. Utter terror of thinking about if he'd lost Spy for good this time, and not knowing what would happen, or what he’d do _with_ or _to_ himself if he did. He was unstable, and a downright abusive human being, but in the end, he was still a human being. The power he held could  _ and would _ take control of him against his will under certain circumstances, and Spy had seen it happen with more people than just Francis, so this much he knew contributed to that cruelty that Francis was capable of.

Francis broke the kiss and pulled away, the taste of blood strong on his tongue as Spy whimpered again, the sting of the cut across his lips finally hitting him strong as the soreness spread to his jaw. He only just realized how he’d even gotten that in the first place, when he’d run right into a branch in his escape and it had cut his lip pretty badly. Spy watched Francis as he wiped the blood off of his lips with his sleeve, and the gentle look filled with need in those eyes that emitted a soft glow.

“I don’t like it when you cry Spy, and I don’t want you to cry anymore…” Francis gently cupped Spy’s face in his hand, a thumb gently brushing across his jaw and up to his lips, a dark red light at the tip of it as he rubbed steadily across the scratch, watching as the wound closed once that light came in contact with it. Spy swallowed, a sudden want to avert his gaze hitting him, but he refused to do so. He allowed himself to let out a small sigh through his nose as he felt the pain fade away, replaced by an odd but relieving fuzziness in its place as the healing took place. “Alright?”

Most of the time, when Francis said that word, it was during a time of frenzy. But this time, it was soft and caring, like it had been before. Before things turned for the worst, and they were both happy. Francis leaned in and kissed Spy again. Spy almost winced, fighting himself to not pull away and avoid any affection. 

He hated Francis. He repeated it to himself over and over that he hated Francis. But when he showed this softness to him, the part of him that both knew was the  _ true _ Francis, hate and love became one in a blurred torrent of complicated feelings and thoughts. Spy hated that too, but this is something he knew he hated for sure. He hated how complex this was. He didn’t want such complexity.

A deep sigh left Francis as he moved away and nestled into the crook of Spy’s neck, once he had pulled their bodies close together again. Silence fell over them as they stood in their spot, and Spy thought worriedly about what would happen next. Both of their heartbeats pounded against Spy’s chest as he gathered the courage to speak, his tone hoarse from his crying fit.

“Francis… Are you… Are you going to hurt me?” His voice shook at the thought of Francis snapping after all of this. After managing to calm him enough to not blow up on the spot.

He felt another swell of fear threaten to overtake his senses again when he felt Francis freeze up, his whole body completely tense. It took a moment, but when Francis pulled back to look at Spy’s face, the other felt the relief wash over him as the instability he expected was instead a look of sadness. “Of course not, why would I lay a hand on you now of all times if I didn’t dare to do it all those other times…? You came back to me, you’re in my arms and alive, and that’s all that matters to me…”

Francis was speaking barely above a whisper, going back to his spot nestled in the crook of Spy’s neck once he had finished. Spy let out a sigh of relief as he was assured. He felt he should’ve known better, Francis wasn’t really lying about what he’d said. Even at his worst, Francis never once had laid a hand on Spy in violence. The thought alone had always made Francis distressed and on the verge of tears if he didn’t just start crying then and there.

They didn’t move for a long while, with Francis hugging Spy as he regrouped. Spy was his spring of sanity and will to keep living on at this point. He always had been, and he always would be. Both knew this by now.

“Let’s go home, okay?” He softly said as he finally let Spy go.

Spy went to take a step, and growled out in pain as he stumbled forward. Francis quickly caught him, and both looked down at the concrete that grew deeper and deeper a shade of crimson as blood seeped into it. Francis gasped, eyes wide as he saw just how bad the damage was, and how much blood Spy had lost.

“H-hey hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Francis softly murmured as Spy hissed through his teeth when the pain grew. “I’ve got you dear, it’s okay, c’mere…”

Without a warning, Spy was lifted up to be cradled in Francis’s arms, and he began his trek back into the woods nearby as he followed the trail of blood Spy had left. He didn’t even need to try and track Spy down, he was given a trail to follow. Behind them, every other sound but the crickets, breeze in the trees, and Francis’s footsteps faded away, and the light of the streetlamps faded away until the glow of the moon and of Francis’s eyes were what remained. Despite the shouting in his head telling him not to, Spy had wrapped his arms around Francis’s neck to hold on, his body beginning to relax as the scenery around him soothed him into a state of tiredness. He refused to let himself fall asleep though, considering this relaxation washing over him was more likely than not caused by his blood loss. He knew from experience that things wouldn’t go well if he didn’t try to stay awake.

“This won’t happen again, okay.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a serious demand, no matter how softly it had been said in Spy’s ear just then. Spy swallowed thickly, those words feeling as if it were wrapping around him like rows upon rows of unbreakable chains, unable to move away from this hellscape that had been concreted into his reality. Chains of fate that were the only thing dragging down the true extent of the Bad End and keeping it locked away. At least...

_ “Not ever again… I won’t allow it… Forever and ever...” _

...For now.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that there's enough yandere stuff literally everywhere that feature running from the yandere through a park or other public area like this at night to make it an overused trope thing, but I went with it anyway since there's significance to parks in this scenario.   
Writing's not my forte as is, so don't think for one second I won't use stuff that's already overused if it makes it easier for me to go with it doing so.


End file.
